Ted and the Telephone | Page 8

come up here and live, is there, Ted?" Mr.
Wharton inquired one day. "I'd give a good deal to have you here on
the spot. Sometimes I want to talk with you outside working hours and
I can't for the life of me lay hands on you. It's the deuce of a way to
Freeman's Falls and you have no telephone. If you were here----" He
paused meditatively, then continued, "There's a little shack down by the
river which isn't in use. You may remember seeing it. It was started
years ago as a boathouse for Mr. Laurie's canoes and then--well, it was
never finished. It came to me the other day that we might clean it up,
get some furnishings, and let you have it. How would the notion strike
you?"
Ted's eyes sparkled.
"I'd like it of all things, sir!" returned he instantly.
"You wouldn't be timid about sleeping off there by yourself?"
"No, indeed!"
"Well, well! I had no idea you would listen to such a plan, much less

like it. Suppose you go down there to-day and overhaul the place. Find
out what would be required to make you comfortable and we will see
what we can do about it. I should want you fixed up so you would be
all right, you know. While we could not afford to go into luxuries, there
would be no need for you to put up with makeshifts."
"But I am quite used to roughing it," protested Ted. "I've often camped
out."
"Camping is all very well for a while but after a time it ceases to be a
joke. No, if you move up here to accommodate us, you must have
decent quarters. Both Mr. Fernald and Mr. Clarence would insist on
that, I am certain. So make sure that the cabin is tight and write down
what you think it would be necessary for you to have. Then we'll see
about getting the things for you."
"You are mighty good, sir."
"Nonsense! It is for our own convenience," Mr. Wharton replied
gruffly.
"Shall I--do you mean that I am to go over there after work to-night?"
"No. Go now. Cut along right away."
"But I was to help Mr. Stevens with the----"
"Stevens will have to get on without you. Tell him so from me. You
can say I've set you at another job."
With springing step Ted hurried away. He was not sorry to exchange
the tedious task of hoeing corn for the delightful one of furnishing a
domicile for himself. What sport it would be to have at last a place
which he could call his own! He could bring his books from home, his
box of electrical things--all his treasures--and settle down in his
kingdom like a young lord. He did not care at all if he had only a
hammock to sleep in. The great satisfaction would be to be his own
master and monarch of his own realm, no matter how tiny it was. Like

lightning his imagination sped from one dream to another. If only Mr.
Wharton would let him run some wires from the barn to the shack,
what electrical contrivances he could rig up! He could then light the
room and heat it, too; he could even cook by electricity.
Probably, however, Mr. Wharton would consider such a notion out of
the question and much too ambitious. Even though the Fernalds had an
electrical plant of their own, such a luxury was not to be thought of. A
candle would do for lighting, of course.
[Illustration: Soon he came within sight of the shack which stood at the
water's edge. Page 27.]
Busy with these thoughts and others like them he sped across the
meadow and through the woods toward the river. He was not content to
walk the distance but like a child leaped and ran with an impatience not
to be curbed. Soon he came within sight of the shack which stood at the
water's edge, mid-way between Aldercliffe and Pine Lea, and was
sheltered from view by a grove of thick pines. Its bare, boarded walls
had silvered from exposure to the weather until it was scarcely
noticeable against the gray tree trunks. Nevertheless, its crude, rough
sides, its staring windows, and its tarred roof looked cheerless and
deserted enough. But for Ted Turner it possessed none of these
forbidding qualities. Instead of being a hermitage it seemed a paradise,
a fairy kingdom, the castle of a knight's tale!
Thrusting the key which Mr. Wharton had given him into the padlock,
he rolled open the sliding door and intermingled odors of cedar, tar, and
paint greeted him. The room was of good size and was neatly sheathed
as an evident preparation for receiving a finish of stain which,